


Interview with the... vampire?

by Valpur



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Embarrassed McCree, Eventual Relationships, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 03:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10654035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valpur/pseuds/Valpur
Summary: After accepting an invitation to a Halloween party, Jesse McCree meets the prettiest vampire ever.And the morning after he meets him again - but in a very different situation. Only, this time at least McCree knows his name.





	Interview with the... vampire?

McCree regretted many things.   
Youth mistakes, years wasted getting in trouble in college before finally managing a master degree in biology, bad companies, that one time he’d lost a bet and shaved his beard, turning into an oversized teen, and so on.

That Monday morning, though, his concerns were of a much more physical kind. With a moan he parked the rusty pick-up he had the guts to call his car and bumped his forehead on the steering wheel.

Well into his thirties, with a stressful yet quite rewarding role as a post doc, he should have known better than getting piss drunk on a Sunday night. Now his head throbbed, his mouth felt fuzzy – no matter how many times he’d brushed his teeth that morning – and the mere thought of the imposing white and grey building in front of him, blinking its many windows and expecting him to get inside and be professional, was enough to made his headache a thousand times worse.

Sleepy and numb weren’t the best perks for a researcher, and McCree knew all too well he already looked quite unlikely for the role without the addition of a vicious hangover. He moaned some more and his arms slumped down his sides.

“I can’t”, he grumbled, sliding further down. When his nose hit the center of the wheel he let out a terrified cry at the sudden honk of the horn and sat upright, eyes wide and heart racing. “What the bloody fuckin’ _fuck_ ”, he yelled, hitting the seat with the flat of his hand and falling back against the headrest. With a grunt he ran his hands on his face and through his already ruffled hair, catching a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror. Bloodshot eyes, dark circles and a beard beyond any attempt of decency; he tried to smooth down his wild appearance and immediately gave up the effort – he looked a mess and _was_ a mess, so who was he planning to fool? He leaned to the passenger’s side to retrieve his bag and his eyes wandered for a split second to the back of his car.

One of the seats was still pulled down, and a golden ribbon peeked from behind the safety belt. McCree gulped when the last memories of the night before unravelled in his mind – especially those about the owner of such ribbon.

_Great. That’s just what I needed to make my day even shittier. Hooray._

With a surge of longing he took his backpack and pulled the keys from the ignition, letting the horseshoe-shaped keyring tingle as he slid it into his pocket.

It had been a nice evening. Too nice and too short and damn too complicated for his own good, but what was done was done and now it was another day at work, so better wrap his head around it and get shit done. He pressed his lips into a line and opened the door, welcoming the crisp autumn air and silently hoping it could clear his mind.

He slammed the door with too much strength and slung the bag on his shoulder, head low and feet taking him along his daily path – chewing gum spotted, pigeon droppings and cigarette butts infested sidewalk. He picked a squished white and red pack from the pocket of his flannel shirt along with an old metal lighter. He stood in front of the glass doors of the lab, smoking in silence and letting his mind wake up some more; the ashtray by the worn mat – its unconvinced ‘welcome’ barely readable – was half full, and after one long, last drag he pressed the cigarette’s butt in the graveyard of its predecessors. He puffed out a cloud of smoke and warm breath and straightened his back. Still, when he tried to focus on his daily tasks, McCree only found a cluster of vague, confused notes he couldn’t quite get.

As he walked past the automatic doors he kind of remembered there was something new awaiting his team, but what? He had to supervise his PhD student in his analyses and check on the undergrads’ papers – and what else?

All he could make out were details about the previous night, and it was not good.

As often, however, it was _totally_ not his fault.

 

_“Jesse, do you have plans for the night?”  
Sombra’s voice from his phone, with her sweet Mexican accent and a whole world of mischief badly disguised as friendly concern, didn’t bode anything good. Sprawled on his couch, with a pile of empty pizza boxes at his feet, a not-cold-enough can of beer in one hand and the controller of his PS in the other, McCree squirmed to keep the phone between his ear and shoulder._

_“Why do you ask?”_

_“Why so suspicious?”_

_“’Cause I know yer a brat and always tryina set me up with random people”._

_A low chuckle rose from the other side of the communication. Sombra was a good old friend from his PhD days, too smart for her own good and determined to match him up with someone._ Anyone _, actually, since she insisted McCree was wasted as single._

_“Hush,_ amigo _, I know you love me. Let me guess: you’re flat on your ass at home, in the last day and a half you’ve only eaten leftover pizza and you’ve been playing Red Dead Redemption for eight hours straight. Also, you’re wearing no pants”._

_At this McCree winced. Hadn’t he known better he’d have suspected Sombra was spying on him. He glanced down at his thick thighs protruding from an ugly pair of red boxer briefs printed with sheriff’s stars and put his beer down._

_“Yer sorely mistaken, querida. It’s Dark Souls 3, and I am indeed wearing pants”, he lied._

_Sombra laughed in earnest and McCree was sure she was shaking her head._

_“You’re not answering my question. It’s Halloween, have you forgotten?”_

_“Nope, but I was tryina ignore the occurrence. Or are you invitin’ me to go trick or treat?”_

_“That could be a good idea, I like candies – but no, not really. There’s a party in a new place downtown and I could use a lift”._

_“There you go, I was sure you needed somethin’”._

_“Come on, it’s just a twenty minutes ride from your place. And I’ll take you back home safe and sound after”._

_This was actually interesting. In the last years McCree’d lost some of his sociality skills, too busy with his work to be of much company, too old to spend his nights jumping from pub to pub, and yet in occasions as such he still tried to have as much fun as possible. This involved some drinks too many, something that made driving back home a very bad idea._

_Sombra smiled – McCree felt her dark features light up with amusement and shivered at the thought of the playfulness in her purple eyes. No need to see her to know she was up to something._

_“… also, there’s gonna be a lot of new people for you to meet, and who knows if…”_

_“Sombra, I’m still not over the fake Grindr account you created for me”._

_“I’m shocked! It earned you a couple of dates!”_

_“They were_ bad _. Worse even, they were awkward and…”_

_“The last one was cute”._

_“He was ten years younger than me and asked me to call him ‘daddy’ before I even got to tell him my name”._

_“Yeah, whatever, we’re digressing. Are you coming with me or not?”_

_McCree let out a heavy sigh and threw the controller on the pillows. The digital watch on the shelf, sitting precariously over a pile of papers he was supposed to read, signalled him it was 7 p.m._

_And Sombra was – as usual – right: he’d spent a good part of the week-end doing nothing._

_“Alright, alright, you got me”._

_“You’re the best! Pick me up at 9 and try to look spooky”._

_“… what?”_

_“I mean, wear a costume or something. At least change your t-shirt, I know you’re still wearing the same one since yesterday morning. Bye!”, and she hung up without any further notice. McCree stared blankly at the phone for a while and shook his head. With a roll of his eyes he fell back on the couch and stretched out his legs and arms._

_Sombra was nosy and painfully on point. His plain white t-shirt was crumpled and not exactly fresh; he chugged down the last remains of his beer and stood up, dusting ash and crumbles from his chest._

I’m not lettin’ her find me another weirdo _, he stated stubbornly, but walked to the shower nonetheless._

 

As expected, he was late. Not tragically so, but the lab was already buzzing with activity as he approached the office he shared with Fareeha.

Unsurprisingly, she shot him a dark and stern look from her laptop.

“You’re…”

“Late, yeah. ‘Mornin’, m’lady”, he yawned. The woman crossed her arms and threw back her black hair, cocking an eyebrow that dripped concern and disappointment. Such look quickly faded into a perplexed smirk.

“Dear god, Jesse, you’re awful”.

He dropped his backpack and dragged himself to the shelf, sighing in relief as he found the coffee pot was not as empty as he’d feared. He poured some in the first clean mug he found and smiled back at Fareeha.

“Now now, you flatter me”.

“Did you even sleep? You look… well, quite worn out”, she said, tilting her head on the side.

McCree sipped the bitter, lukewarm coffee and grimaced at the taste; still, he drained his cup and hoped it contained enough caffeine to keep him up till lunch.

“Not much, the alarm clock almost gave me a heart attack. I’m not young anymore…”

“Ah, I see. Party night?”

“Blame Sombra and her Halloween obsession”.

Fareeha turned her chair and crossed her legs, dangling a feet and shaking her head. McCree rub a hand on his mouth and looked down at her.

“No more lecturin’, please. It’s Monday and I already wish I was dead, but I promise I’ll be awake and operative in no time”.

“Aren’t you a bit too old to go to a Halloween party?”

“Never too old to have some fun”. He left the mug on his desk and grinned. “Talkin’ ‘bout old folks, is Morrison around?”

“He is and he’s been asking about you”. Fareeha went back at her computer, long dark fingers fluttering on the keyboard.

“Oh. Was he mad at me? I didn’t do anythin’ wrong. This time”.

“No idea, but you’ll better check him out. Go now, I have to finish reviewing my paper”.

“Another one? Darlin’, you’re so efficient it’s scary”, he said raising his eyebrows, but received no further attention from his post doc colleague.

Running his fingers through his hair he left the room and walked down the corridor.

Being summoned by associate professor Jack Morrison was not unusual – he was his boss, after all, and a really good one. Strict to say the least, annoyingly honest and ready to take in a confused, bitter McCree after his PhD with Gabriel Reyes had turned him into a ball of stress.

Morrison’s office was across the main lab and McCree had to zigzag between the rows of counters and lab gear crowding the room.

“Hey there!” greeted a young, lively voice. McCree turned to find Hana, their youngest undergrad, stooped on the chromatograph. _Young_ was an understatement: she was frighteningly ahead of her time, barely nineteen and already working on her thesis.

“Howdy, lil’ one”, he said, touching his forehead with two fingers. He couldn’t but stop by and peek at the screen of the instrument. “’S everything alright?”

“No it’s not”, and the girl shrugged. “The samples aren’t remotely pure enough for the analysis, but I’m trying a workaround and I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be good”. She raised her head and a pair of large eyes, underlined by a bright pink eyeshadow, smiled from the fall of her long hair.

“Really? How?”

“I’m looking for a trend in the deviance from our expected results and I’m _this_ close to find one. I’ll let you check on my notes later if you have time and… wait, are you ok?” she asked, knitting her brow and giving him a closer look.

“What – sure thing, why d’you ask?”

“You’re shaggy. Well, shaggier than usual”.

McCree looked up to the ceiling, with its pale neon lights, and snorted.

“What did you expect? It’s too early to live. Still, keep it up, I’ll see your results after I’m done with the boss”.

“Kay. He did mention something about you speaking to someone about something”, she said, getting back to work.

“Thank you for narrowing it down to me”, he chuckled, and proceeded to the red door on the other side of the lab. The air smelled like chemicals and chlorine, with an undertone of something green and dusty. They worked on environmental pollution after all, so it was nothing strange.

Right by the door a thick mass of dreadlocks was bobbing up and down under the suction hood. McCree snorted and proceeded to the young man sitting there, hands gloved in blue nitrile steady around a pipette and a test tube, and a bright neon green set of headphones on his ears.

“Lúcio?” he asked in a tired tone. No reply, except for a faint echo of techno music. “Holy cow, lad, how many times do I need to tell you?” McCree pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head: he was bad at this – discipline, being the responsible one and stuff. He quickly checked the content of the bottle under the hood and sighed in relief. Plain demineralized water, so no risks whatsoever. A mischievous grin stretched his lips and he leaned forward, grabbing one of the headphones and snatching it from Lúcio’s head.

“Fire alarm! FIRE ALARM!” he nearly yelled in his ear. Lúcio yelped and almost fell from his stool, dropping the pipette and pouring water on his lap.

“Fuck! Where? Fuck fuck _fuck_!” he panted, scrambling on his feet. McCree laughed and patted him on the back, hard enough to send him against the suction hood.

“Nowhere, just kiddin’”.

“What the… damn, McCree! You scared me to death!” he panted, one hand on his chest and huge brown eyes fixed on McCree’s face. “Why would you do that to me?”

“Your headphones. You know it, kiddo, it’s mighty fine to have some music at work but you need to be responsive”, he said, unable to stay serious too long. Still, he persisted. “It’s a matter of lab safety and shit”.

Lúcio shook water droplets off his lab coat – a tiny pin with a smiling frog blinked on his chest – and shrugged with the brightest, most charming smile.

“Oops. You got me, see I needed some groove to get my head working properly, so…”

“Be glad I’m the one who caught you, professor Morrison would be way less patient. How is it Hana is so much more observant of the lab rules than you? Aren’t you supposed to be a PhD student?”

At the mention of his young colleague Lúcio shot her a dreamy look and his smile grew wider.

“That’s cause she’s the best. Er – I mean – you know…”

McCree slapped his hand on his forehead and playfully pushed him back at his working station, leaning closer so that only the young man could hear him.

“Ask her out, mate. Trust me”. One last pat on his shoulder and he left him, sure that Hana was looking at them. He got to Morrison’s door and lifted his fist, but before he could knock a growling voice rose from the office.

“Come in, Jesse”.           

 

_All in all he was quite happy to have accepted Sombra’s invitation. The place was crowded but not unpleasantly so, with some more than decent music playing in the background – “Pet sematary” was a spot on Halloween soundtrack, and McCree, perched against the bar counter, tilted his Stanton to the barman in appreciation. The man, with his shock of green hair and bright black eyes, winked in response._

_“The owner is a friend of mine”, had said Sombra approaching the pub; her calavera face painting glowed faintly in the blue lights and made her look intriguingly cute rather than creepy. She’d examined McCree’s outfit with a critical eye and tapped a finger on her chin. “What’s with your costume? You don’t look much different from your usual attire – except for the hat, maybe…”_

_“Hey, I’m wearing chaps. And spurs too!”_

_“But a_ cowboy _? For Halloween?”_

_“Not just a cowboy,_ chica _. An undead one”, and he’d pointed at the dark circles under his eyes. Mostly some soot from a purposely burned cork, but it was acceptable. “How about zombie Jesse James?”_

_Sombra had snorted a soft laugh and punched his shoulder._

_“It’ll do, but you’re a lazy ass”._

_McCree took a drink from his Long island and smacked his lips with an appreciative grimace. It was good, and he turned to the barman with a grin. The green-haired man dropped two glasses on the counter and approached him._

_“This is some good shit, mate”. Sombra had told him the man’s name, something that clearly reflected his Japanese origins, but he couldn’t remember it. He was bad with names, so always went for nicknames._

_“Thanks… Jesse, right? Sombra told me about you before”._

_“Yeah, that’s me”. He took another sip and ruffled the hair on the back of his neck. “I’m scared to ask what she’s telling people about me, that lil’ brat. Nothing compromising I hope – er…”_

_“Genji”, replied the barman. The music shifted to some old school Misfits and McCree tapped his boot on the floor in synch with the drums._

_“Right. Sorry, didn’t quite get that earlier”._

_“No worries. By the way, Sombra just said that you’ve been moping for too long”._

_“Moping? Really? I’ll have a word with her later”, he grumbled, annoyed more by the fact that she was right than anything else. “How come you know the lady, by the way?”_

_Genji shrugged and with a bright smile slid a beer from under the counter to another customer._

_“Sombra seems to know everyone or to be able to get you in touch with all those she doesn’t know directly; she helped me out with some bureaucracy for the pub – and I don’t want to know how she did some of her tricks for I’m not entirely sure it’s all legal – and here we are. She mentioned you’re single and asked me if I knew someone for you”._

_“So Sombra is sendin’ out her minions too?”_

_“Don’t mind me, dude, I…” Genji’s long eyes darted over McCree’s shoulder and crinkled in a mischievous grin. McCree barely had the time to acknowledge that menacing look that a kinder smile was back on the barman’s features. “Here, this one’s on the house”, and he turned to the bottle-crowded shelves on the wall. After a quick clinking of ice and glass he handed McCree another drink._

_“Well thank you, I suppose”, McCree raised the glass and looked at its content, thick and red. “Is this…”_

_“Bloody Mary. It attracts_ vampires _”, and with a wink he shuffled away to the newly arrived group of witches and zombies at various degrees of drunkenness._

_Vodka and tomato juice wasn’t really his thing, but McCree was not one to refuse a free drink, so he took a tentative sip. The violent burn of alcohol floated to his nose and he blinked, clearing his throat._

_Ok, it was strong enough to knock out a horse, so it was all good._

_Vampires, had said Genji, and there seemed to be dozens in the pub. Mostly people, like McCree, not really into spending time or effort in a proper costume: lots of white faces and black capes, too much fake blood and – he shivered at the sight – glitter._

_McCree sighed and drank some more. Sombra was nowhere in sight and he might as well find someone to talk to. A quick check at the center of the pub revealed lots of couples and groups of friends, not so easily approached, and then…_

_His eyes ran along the wall opposite the counter, stumbled into a dark figure and he stopped frozen._

_That man was_ not _wearing a costume. This first, illogical thought kicked him in the head – no way that pale, austere guy in a black tuxedo was human. McCree rubbed his eyes, smearing the offhand makeup on his cheeks, and took a second look._

_No, alright, he was not an actual vampire, most likely. His scientific preparation shook his brain to a more rational path and McCree gulped._

_Not a vampire, maybe, but bloody gorgeous nonetheless. Under the fluorescent lights the stranger’s long hair shone like the silk of his jacket, his skin pale –_ actually _pale, not caked in gross greasepaint – and his eyes…_

_McCree felt his mouth go dry the moment the stranger turned to him. Above high cheekbones his eyes looked too black, too deep; thick arched eyebrows rose slightly up the man’s forehead and he parted his lips, rolling a tall glass of red wine in his long fingers. A metal piercing shone at the base of his nose._

_Hadn’t he been a grown up man with a solid scientific background McCree could have started to believe in magic, because he moved his feet as if under the effect of a spell. Halfway through the distance that divided him from the man McCree got a grip on his wits and managed a smile. He might have been under a dry spell for longer than he was willing to admit, but he knew he still had his charm._

_“I’ll be damned if yer not the most believable gothic creature in this whole establishment”, he said, tilting his hat back with a smirk._

_“I beg you pardon?” The other man’s voice, a growl that resonated under the raging music, poured like hot honey down McCree’s body. He blinked twice to recollect himself and raised his glass in a polite toast._

_“Sorry ‘bout that, darlin’, I was just – well, you don’t look like a kid outta Twilight or some cheap cosplayer, so…”_

_"Was that a compliment?" The man's tone sounded annoyed, but McCree was quite sure there was a hint of amusement in his dark eyes - from the distance he'd thought them painted in eyeliner, but it was just the shadow of long and thick lashes._

_Shrugging McCree drank some of his cocktail, not failing to notice that the stranger hadn't replied to his toast._

_"Why not? To your fine taste at least, but I could say some more about the rest too"._

_"Is my brother sending you, isn't he?" snapped the vampire, narrowing his eyes and shooting a furious glance at the counter. McCree extended a hand and quickly shook his head._

_"What? No! I didn't even know he was your brother, I just got some booze and he offered me this cocktail", he said in a voice that was rapidly losing all the charme he was trying to show off just seconds before._

_The man in the vampire costume rolled his eyes and snatched the glass from McCree's grip. He tasted its content and scrunched his nose in distaste._

_"Ah, there we go. Bloody Mary - let me guess, Genji thought it was an efficient seduction strategy"._

_McCree's cheeks caught fire and he looked at his own feet, brushing the black, shiny tiles with the tip of a boot._

_"Fuck, I'm out of practice. It's just that - well, nevermind, didn't wanna sound inappropriate or anything, really... er, can I get that back? After makin' such a fool of myself I need a drink. Badly"._

_The stranger's flustered look softened a bit and he almost smiled, handing the glass back to McCree. Only than he noticed there was some make up on his face after all - a thin red trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth down his chin, disappearing into a well groomed black beard._

_"I'm the one who should apologize now. You were trying to be polite and - look, my brother is desperately struggling to find me someone without my consent, so I tend to be slightly peevish on the issue". When McCree, face still burning but an unrelenting smile spreading across his lips, took his own drink the man rose his glass of wine. "Nice to meet you, cowboy"._

_McCree's heart hopped in his chest and he tilted his glass to meet the stranger's with a tinkling sound._

You still got it, Jesse boy. A bit, at least. Maybe.

_"So... how should I call you? Are you a Polidori kind of vampire or more of a Lestat?"_

_The man chuckled and looked away, politely sipping his wine with a smile and allowing McCree a full check out of his figure. Strongly built, with broad shoulders and a thick neck; the river of his jet black hair flew on his collar, loosely tied at the base of his neck with a golden ribbon._

Damn, he's hot.

_And with this realization McCree’s seduction skills dropped some more. His smile suddenly felt silly and his arms quite useless, so he crossed them to his broad chest._

_"You tell me, cowboy: what do you think?"_

_"Ah - er..."_

_McCree took off his hat and ruffled his hair, giving the man another long, inquisitive look. Clad in black, elegant and imposing despite being rather shorter than McCree, he looked like he belonged in a gothic novel._

_"Definitely a Dracula - the Prince of Darkness. May I call you 'prince', darlin'?"_

_The stranger snorted in his glass and ran a hand on his mouth to clean some wine droplets._

_"Good grief, that might be the cheekiest pickup line ever..."_

_"Is it working?"_

_"I... I...."_

_McCree secretly beamed at the faint flush spreading on the man's cheeks and drank again._

_"I'm too old for pickup lines, but..."_

_"Was that a yes then?"_

_He distinctly saw the man swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his pale throat over the black bowtie. And why not? McCree had been single for years now, except for a handful of one-night stands he could have lived without, but he knew he wasn't that bad to look at - or to talk to, if that was the case._

_The vampire cocked an eyebrow and looked up at McCree over the brim of his glass._

_"It's not a no"._

_"I can't believe I got the nerve to come and speak to the prettiest person in this crowd, but luck's been on my side. What's your name, angel?"_

_The subtle grin parting the stranger's black beard was somewhat predatory, the gleam in his eyes so tempting McCree was sure he was imagining it all._

_"You said it yourself: call me prince"._

 

McCree badly suppressed a yawn and walked the threshold of Morrison's office. His boss, half hidden by his laptop, was busy with a ridiculous pile of papers and his silver short hair was more ruffled than usual.

"'Morning", he tried to greet him, but no answer came from behind the screen. With another yawn that made his jaw click McCree slumped on one the two chairs in front of the desk.

After a while, Jack Morrison finally looked up at him. Icy blue eyes and a long nose, in a face that qualified as strict and some more, the man looked more like an old soldier than a university professor leading a small but good willed team of researchers.

A crooked smile tilted Jack's lips, but before he could speak McCree rubbed his face in his palms.

"Please, don't. I know I look like shit, I've been told so by too many people this morning; I swear I'm sober and I can be tasked with handling acids and corrosive solutes without riskin' anyone's life".

Morrison slid a thin pair of metal-framed glasses from his nose and leaned closer.

" _Excusatio non petita accusatio manifesta_ \- you're the one accusing yourself, Jesse..."

"Wait, am I in trouble? Because I don't recall doin' anything stupid lately..."

_In this lab, at least_. His heart sunk a bit at the memory of golden silk and the sweet taste of wine.

"Calm down, kid, you're fine. I called you in because I need your assistance today; we're hiring a new person, remember?"

McCree didn't even try to pretend and shook his head.

"Now I do, but I ignored the whole process and... well, alright, it slipped from my mind and..."

"A statistician. I couldn't stand asking Reyes to borrow his team for our analysis, and now we got one of our own".

As usual, Reyes' mention made Morrison clench his jaws and McCree sigh in resignation. These two low key hated each other. Or maybe they were really bad at flirting.

Probably both.

“Yeah, great, I suck at maths and the more the merrier, am I right?” McCree crossed his ankles and stretched his arms over his head. “What am I supposed to do then?”

Jack moved a couple of scribbled sheets from his desk and rolled a pen between his fingers.

“I’ve already seen this guy, his resume is impressive to say the least and he fits the role perfectly; all we have to do now is see if he’s an acceptable person to work with and handle him the papers to sign. Unfortunately”, and he snatched one of the documents he’d been working on, waving it in front of McCree, “I’m tragically busy this morning, so you’ll have to do it”.

“ _Me_? Well, alright, but it’s hard not to get along with me, so I dunno if I’m a reliable test for other people’s personality…”

“I have to check Fareeha’s paper and if we want to keep on working there are funds to be obtained. Do me a favour, Jesse, and talk to the guy”.

“Sure, no problem, but why me?”

With a dry smile Jack shrugged and leaned back on his chair.  
“Because I trust you, kid”.

McCree felt his throat clench a bit – he knew his boss had a soft spot for him, but it was the first time he told him something so personal.

“You’re tryin’ to leverage on my feelings. Fine, fine, I’ll do it”, and he extended a hand over the desk. Morrison laughed softly and passed him a thin file of documents.

“Very well. Dr. Shimada is to come here at half past nine”, and he quickly checked his watch. “So in five minutes. Check out the papers and if everything’s ok show him the place. Try to make him feel welcome, ‘cause he is”.

Without even bothering to look at the file McCree stood up and rubbed his beard. Morrison put his glasses back on his nose and gestured him out.

“Come on, it won’t take long. Don’t make our new friend wait”, and sunk back in his tasks.

As he left his office and walked his way back through the lab McCree was pleased to hear some music coming from Lúcio’s workstation, his green headphones slung around his neck. Fareeha was chatting with Hana at the chromatograph, and the young student blinked when McCree caught her side eyeing Lúcio.

He repressed a chuckle and emerged in the corridor, but as soon as his brain recorded a dark shape sitting on one of the chairs by the wall all his nerves tensed.

It took him a fraction of a second to recognize him, even though he looked much different from the night before. No tuxedo or crisp white shirt, no subtle make up – his black hair was pulled up in a high bun that showed the shorn sides of his head, a grey, high collared jacked stretched on his shoulders, and his skinny jeans tucked inside a pair of half laced boots.

And still he looked stunning.

McCree quickly retreated to the lab, his back against the door and his heart running the marathon in his chest.

_Fuck_.

With shaky hands he lifted the papers and scanned their content.

Shimada. Hanzo Shimada, top grades at TODAI University, master and PhD at Yale, lots of more titles and achievements, an outrageously fine butt and a huge problem in McCree’s future life.

Hana and Fareeha were watching him with their eyebrows high on their forehead and identical perplexed expressions; McCree tried to ignore them and stealthily peeked from his hideout to the corridor.

Hanzo was sitting with his legs crossed and a smartphone in hand, dignified and with no hint of the hangover that still plagued McCree. He might not be wearing a fancy, goth outfit, but the strong line of his jaw and the shadow of those long lashes caressing his cheekbones made him look otherworldly nonetheless. The man rolled back his shoulders and straightened his back, and McCree jumped back in the lab before Hanzo could see him.

A drop of sweat trickled down his spine and he huffed, brushing his hair from his forehead.

_No way I’m gettin’ in my office askin’ this dude to sign a contract or anything else. Just… nope._

“Jesse?”

Fareeha’s voice startled him and he hastily wore a not very believable relaxed smile.

“What?”

“You’re pale. Are you sure you don’t need a day off or…”

_Darlin’, you have no idea what yer askin’ me or how bad I’d need to get outta here…_

Sadly, though, his body – without any consent from his most noble physiologic functions – suggested him there were other things he needed. And such things were currently sitting politely a few steps away.

McCree fidgeted with the pages and nervously looked around the lab. Before embarrassment could kill him he gritted his teeth and marched back to Morrison’s office.

There _had_ to be a way out – and how long could that pathetic interview take? Ten minutes? Well, Morrison could get it done by himself.

The more he approached the red door, the steadier his decision got. Unfortunately, as he grabbed the handle and pushed, all this offhand strength of will deflated like a balloon.

He stood there, papers crumpled in one hand, the other sweating on the door, under the irritated, cold stare of his boss.

“Yes?” asked Jack, brow furrowing and long nose scrunching.

McCree let out a muffled squeak; he felt like his tongue was stuck to his mouth and for a dreadfully long moment he could only stare at Morrison.

“Jesse? What’s the matter?” An undertone of concern veined Jack’s voice, in contrast with his austere appearance.

“I…”

He shot a quick look behind his shoulders and slammed the door closed. His skin prickled, his head felt light, but in the end he managed a nervous whisper.

“Jack, I can’t do this”.

“You… can’t”. Morrison pushed his glasses further up his nose with the tip of his index finger and crossed his arms. “That’s not true, of course; you’re more than qualified for…”

“No no, man, I mean it: _I can’t_. Really”.

“Enough with this bullshit, McCree. I told you how busy I am and it’s a little thing I’m asking, it won’t take you more than some minutes. Where’s the problem?”

McCree pulled his hair and moaned, unable to stand Jack’s stare and going for an accurate examination of his worn out All Stars instead.

“It’s just… I… dunno, it’s complicated”.

“Jesse”.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m tryin’ to weasel or anythin’, really, but I’d rather not…”

“Jesse, look at me”.

Such a tone demanded to be obeyed, and McCree raised his head. It had been years and still he felt like a stuttering teen under the ruthless look of those blue eyes.

“Good. Now either you tell me why you don’t want to do this – no, it’s not that you _can’t_ , you don’t want to, and please don’t you try to interrupt me – or you get out of my office and get shit done real quick. Your pick”.

Suddenly McCree imagined himself speaking the truth in front of his boss – with too many details for his own peace of mind. His eye twitched and he gulped, rocking back and forth on his feet.

_No, thank you very much but no fuckin’ way._

It was already problematic as it was, and any further amount of embarrassment could easily have killed him on the spot. He closed his mouth and turned on his heels, his back stiff and his cortisol blood levels reaching a critical point.

“Yeah. Got it”. He slammed the door open and walked out real quick, dead sure Jack was still watching him.

 

_Midway through his third drink, sitting with his vampire at a corner table, McCree felt his head light for all the wrong reasons. He wished he could blame the alcohol for his blissful smile or the heat burning his face, but to be honest the other man’s velvety voice was more intoxicating than the tequila he was drinking._

_After the initial awkwardness everything was going too well and too fast for his most optimistic forecasts – that guy was not only the most handsome he’d set eyes upon, but he sounded smart as hell too._

_After a couple of hours none of them had told much about their private lives – and McCree still didn’t know the man’s name – but their talk of music and literature and pointless episodes of their college years was deliciously enticing._

_More so was the way McCree found himself leaning closer and closer to the stranger, until their arms were touching under the table and the man’s hard thigh was pressed against his own._

_“I should’ve asked you first but I’ve already had my share of crappy one liners – still, I’m curious: yer new in town, aren’t you?”_

_The man didn’t smile, but his dark eyes glimmered in the shadows. Had he been more sober McCree could have stopped to consider if it was just a trick of his own imagination, but it actually looked like there was more than a hint of malice in that deep look._

_“I am, actually. New job, new place – you’re the first one I meet here, cowboy”._

_“Call me Jesse, my prince”, he replied in a purring tone he couldn’t control. The other man brushed his leg against his and McCree felt his chest tighten in an unexpected surge of excitement._

_“You’re taking this Jesse James thing very seriously, aren’t you?”_

_He grinned and reciprocated the pressure, taking pride in his partner sudden gasp. His pale cheeks flushed and McCree found him even more fascinating; he took a gulp of tequila and slung one arm over the back of their couch, his fingers resting lightly on the other’s shoulder._

_“Honey, I take everything seriously, and if I…”_

_The appearance of a dark face painted in fluo skeletal markings choked his words. Sombra, busy chatting with a slender, dark haired woman with the most perfect resting bitch face McCree’d ever seen, slowed down just enough to shot him a knowing look. She bowed her head in some sort of appreciation and strolled away, leaving McCree prey of a wild desire to disappear into the ground and his nameless companion mildly amused._

_“Is it just me or your face is going red?”_

_“’S jus’ a trick of the lights”. His reply sounded lame even in his own ears, so McCree chugged down what was left of his drink and kept his eyes to the table. Damn, it was not going bad – not at all, actually – so why was he so ready to succumb to awkwardness? As if reading his mind the other man moved his hand, placing it lightly but steadily on McCree’s knee. The simple gesture was enough to send a generous amount of tequila down the wrong path; McCree choked and bent forward, coughing wildly and asking whatever superior entity to take him now and relieve him from the pain of being a hopeless fool._

_“Hey, hey – easy there, Jesse”, and that rich voice sounded concerned, the long fingers digging into McCree’s leg. “Is everything ok?”_

_“Yeah – no”, panted McCree, sitting up and taking a deep, shaky breath. His throat still burned and his words came out as a rasping croak, but eventually he managed to wipe his eyes and smile. Only then he realized his vampire was still touching him – and he was_ near _. So near McCree could see the silver sparkles in his sideburns and smell a heady mixture of wine and flowers. His smile deepened and he relaxed a bit. “Actually… yeah, I’m fine. More than fine, I just need to…”_

_Those lips. They looked so soft now that they weren’t stretched into a snarky line, slightly parted and so inviting…_

That’s some heavy flirtin’ there, Jesse boy. Don’t wanna sound like a creep, right? Take it easy.

_“… look, d’ya mind to join me outside for a smoke?”_

_The man tilted his head on the side and let his hand drop from McCree’s knee in what looked much like a caress._

_“Sure”, and he stood up, throwing his gorgeous mane back with an elegant whip of his hand._

_McCree found following him more complicated than he’d expected; he hit the table with his knees and the glasses wiggled, and as soon as he was back on his feet he realized with a jolt of shock that his jeans were uncomfortably tighter than before. He subtly tried to adjust his untimely erection and gave up when a pang of arousal made him squirm._

Hands off, dude.

_His partner was walking among the crowd as if through flowing water, slow deliberate steps that McCree followed spellbound. Instead of going for the main entrance they ended up by the rear door; the other man kept it open and let McCree exit before him – and McCree could have sworn his ass got checked out as he walked down the few steps leading to the dark alley behind the pub._

_It was cold outside and a fine rain misted the cobblestones. Still, McCree felt his blood boil under his skin as he leaned to the handrail at his new friend’s side._

_“So”, he started, picking a cigarette from his pocket and holding it between his lips. “Yer here to stay”. He fumbled to find his lighter and his arm brushed the other man’s. That simple, chaste touch burned hotter than the small flame he was now cradling in his palm._

_“I am. If luck assists me I’ll start my new job tomorrow, and – well, my family is a mess, but Genji is something else. We’ve had our troubles some years ago and I’m glad we’re having some time to make things better”. His sigh turned into a muffled chuckle; he ran a hand through his long hair and looked up at McCree. “Too personal? I’m sorry”._

_“No! Please don’t be, I’d like to know you better and…”_

_He realized the absolute truth behind those words and his voice faded away. Taking a quick drag to mask his confusion McCree looked down at his boots, but with the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of a smile on the stranger’s lips._

_“I’d lie if I said that I’d expected to find someone like you tonight”._

_“And I don’t even know your name…”_

_“Shall we quote Shakespeare and the whole rose thing?”_

_McCree turned to him and a shaky breath left his lips. His mouth, his tongue tickled as he got lost in the man’s eyes, completely speechless._

_For a long moment they stared at each other, on the edge of something else. The alley was dark and empty, the echo of the music in the pub making the silence sound even deeper; McCree blinked as the trail of smoke from his cigarette rose to his eyes, and with that the spell broke._

_“Ah. Er – ‘m sorry, my prince, I didn’t even ask you if you wanted one”, and he patted his chest, looking for the pack._

_The other man bit his lip and batted those long lashes – a quick gesture that made the straining at McCree’s groin even more unbearable – before cracking a sharp smile._

_“Why not?”_

_McCree immediately reached for his pocket, but a long, warm hand found his own. His companion slid the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers and brought it to his lips, inhaling slowly and letting smoke flow from his nose._

_And with this McCree was definitely done. He threw his common sense away, together with any remainders of shame or fear of inappropriateness, and yielded to the desire taking over his body. He snatched the man’s hand in such a sudden gesture the cigarette’s butt fell on the wet pavement._

_“Can I? Please…” McCree felt his breath itch in his throat, his eyesight blurring and not from the cocktails. His vampire blinked in his face and a delicate flush painted his pale cheeks. He licked his lips and stepped closer, the warmth of his body seeping through McCree’s clothes._

_“Do you really need to ask?” he whispered, and before the faint echo of his words had faded in the night McCree grabbed his nape and pulled him forward._

_He’d thought those lips looked soft, and facts proved him more than right. The first taste of tongue beyond the seal of his lips sent a shiver through his body, heat and lust dripping from his nerves as he swallowed the other man’s soft moan. Under his fingertips, the fuzz of short hair on his partner’s neck was soft and prickly at the same time, and when he pushed further an electric shock rippled his skin. Thick muscles tensed against his body, strong arms reaching around his waist and holding him close as their owner bumped his back on the handrail. McCree felt his knees go weak and the kiss grew deeper, more urgent – hunger and desire moving their tongues in a wet dance, those beautiful hands running down his sides and grabbing his butt. His fingers twitched in the silky mass of black hair and he perched to the metal bars, unable to think or to stop when his hips rolled in slow thrusts. When an erection as hot and hard as his own brushed his thigh McCree groaned, pulling back for air and getting his lower lip captured between sharp teeth. He couldn’t help but seek those lips again, licking slowly to part them and sinking in another kiss, every pant underlined by a bucking of their hips. The other man lifted a hand and McCree gasped when a sharp tug pulled his hair, forcing him to bend his head on the side. He had no time to complain: a rough bite on his throat painted his world red and he nearly slumped against his companion, a rough chuckle fluttering in his chest._

_“Woah there, my prince of darkness – hungry?”_

_A sweep of tongue replaced the touch of teeth, hot and slow up his neck to his earlobe._

_“What if I said yes?” The man’s voice was a low rumble in McCree’s ear, his breath warm. He carded his fingers through McCree’s hair and down – through his beard and on his chest, raking over his nipple and twisting tentatively. At McCree’s confused and enthusiast moan the stranger smirked against his lips and touched him deeper, palming the bulging front of his pants and rubbing slowly. “What if I said that it’s not blood I am thirsty for?”_

_“Honey, you’re… ah”, he dipped his head in the crook of the other man’s neck, panting and breathing in the addictive scent of his skin. He couldn’t believe it was happening to him, such a wonderful creature teasing him and losing his composure in his arms. He stepped back without letting him go and turned around, slamming his partner against the closed door. Sliding his hands down the silk-clad sides he grabbed his thighs and spread them, pulling the other man’s legs up and pinning him in place; as he lifted him up, holding him against the damp surface with desperate bucks of his hips, the other man wrapped his legs around his sides and gasped._

_McCree couldn’t help but wanting –_ needing _– more, his imagination paired with the raw sensations taking over his body and stripping him down to a whimpering mass of lust. He swayed, overcome with desire and light-headed, and the other man, back on his feet, didn’t stop kissing and biting, deft fingers working around McCree’s belt and slowly sliding inside his pants. The first touch on the slick head of his cock dragged a growl from his lips; he fell forward against the door, sending it to dance on its hinges, and his beautiful prince grabbed him firmly, wrapping his fingers around his stiff length and stroking him in deep thrusts._

_A part of him, really loud and not very sensible, suggested some wretched scenario involving getting off just like that. It had been too long and that guy was too hot for his own self-control – but he could have more. McCree stooped on the other man and whispered on his mouth: “If… if you said that, I’d suggest we keep discussin’ this subject somewhere more private. We can… oh, fuck”, he snapped, eyes fluttering close as a kiss at the base of his neck turned into a sucking bite._

_“Your place?”, and for all his maddening excitement McCree was glad to hear the same panting tone in the other’s voice._

_It made sense. His flat was a mess but the prospect of an actual bed and of the variety of activities they could entertain in the sheets was a dream._

_But then his brain elbowed him._

_The ride was not long and he was not really drunk, but driving sounded like a very bad idea._

_And still…_

_He cupped the sharp jaw, shivering at the contact with the soft black beard, and a heavy snarl hissed in the air._

_“I-I don’t think we could make it home, but my car is just around the corner. A quiet place”._

_The other man pushed him back and McCree gasped at the sudden absence of the hand stroking him; he was about to wonder if he’d spoiled the moment, but a feral grin erased his doubts._

_“Pray it is near, cowboy”, was the ragged reply, and with a wild smile McCree took his partner’s hand and pulled him along. Down the stairs and splashing through puddles, the rain now pouring cold and heavy from the sky._

_By the time they reached the half empty parking lot they were nearly drenched, and McCree didn’t care, as long as slender fingers were interlaced with his own and that amazing mixture of laughter and arousal filled their lungs. His grey pick-up was in the furthermost corner of the lot, shining under the streetlights; McCree had to let go of his partner to search for his keys and for a dreadful moment he feared he’d left them in his jacket, forgotten somewhere in the pub. But no, here they were, stuck in the front pocket of his too tight jeans; he tried to fish them out but the stranger – who, at that point, was not so much of a stranger anymore – took his face in his hands and pulled him down for yet another kiss._

_The car beeped and McCree kind of wanted to open its door and get out of the rain, but he had better things to do with his hands, such as seeking an access to the other’s skin – his white shirt was coming untucked, a crumpled mess in McCree’s grip – or fighting with the top button of his pants._

_Another nudge from his sense and he shook his head, tilting his head back._

_“Get in, sweetie. Don’t want you to catch a cold”, and he shifted sideways to grab the handle. At this remark the other man winked and something in his dark eyes softened, but with a nod and a huff to remove a damp lock from his nose he let McCree do his job._

_As he opened the back-door McCree quickly scanned his car. It was not the best place for sex but it was big enough. Even bigger when he grabbed a lever at the base of the seats and pulled them forward._

_His partner climbed in and crawled in the roomy trunk; McCree followed him close, heart thumping in his head but a last sparkle of wit urging him to the storage compartment._

Please, please be there.

_He opened it and rummaged in the piles of documents – and there they were. A small plastic bottle and a squished cardboard box. A handful of condoms fell on the passenger’s seat but he managed to get hold of one; he dropped it on the floor together with the lube and stopped worrying._

_His dark prince was sprawled under him, propping on his elbows, lower lip caught between his teeth._

_“Sorry ‘bout the makeshift – uh – bed”, he giggled, but when the other man grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and dragged him down he forgot they were alone, yes, but in an almost public place. Getting lost in the exhilarating sensation of the tongue exploring his mouth he bumped his head on the roof and didn’t care; all he wanted was to taste and suck and discover every inch of the amazing body rutting against him._

_Getting undressed was no easy task. He hit his head again, and then his shoulder against the front seat, trying to shimmy out of his shirt, and his vampire almost crushed his nose with an elbow while taking off his jacket._

_“I apologize”, he said, but McCree shut his mouth with his own._

_“No probs. We’re prob’ly too cumbersome for such a cramped place”, he murmured, tugging at the black bowtie and loosening it._

_The other man arched his back to get a grip on his belt._

_“Nonsense, we fit. It’s… it’s simple geometry”, he gasped as McCree unbuttoned his shirt, exposing a vast expanse of pale skin and…_

Oh shit. I’m dreaming and now I’ll wake up.

_Tattoos. Spread across the man’s left pec and up his shoulder, an intricate coil of dark lines he couldn’t quite make out – was that a tail? A snake of some kind? Whatever, the stark contrast between that artsy decoration and the elegant outfit incinerated what little was left of McCree’s control. He bowed and placed an almost reverent kiss under the man’s collarbone, breath coming out in harsh gasps as he travelled south._

_“Bloody hell, sweetie, yer the… the most amazing thing I’ve ever set eyes upon”, and he brushed his lips on a stiffening nipple. “The only one who could make talks of geometry”, he nipped at the tense muscle on his side, running his hands on the rippling abs, “sound so sexy”._

_Strong, hot hands grabbed his head, sinking deep into his shaggy mass of hair._

_“Why not?” he panted. “It’s maths. And – nngh – maths is at the base of everything beautiful”. He writhed and pushed McCree down when he opened his mouth and pressed it between his thighs. He was hard, burning, and McCree fumbled with the zip of his slacks. “P-Poetry. Art. It’s…_ oh _”._

_His voice dropped to a shivering whisper when McCree finally got his pants and underwear and pulled everything down his legs. The other man’s cock leaped out of the black waistband and McCree felt it brush on his lips, the slick head salty against his tongue when he licked up the shaft._

_It was all downhill from there. Under his body a convulsed series of movements proved the man was still trying to strip for him, and McCree perched himself to the driver’s seat when a long leg kicked the air. His other hand was better occupied working up and down the girthy cock, his lips parting to take all he could in his mouth._

_He bobbed his head down, and the loud gasp from the other man, his fingers digging in his scalp, was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. The blunt head pulsated on his tongue and McCree slid down, eyes closed and throat clutching around the throbbing erection. His blood was running wild, its roar matching the needy sounds filling the car and the ticking of raindrops on the windows. He couldn’t but look up – the cabin was getting warmer with every passing second, the glass already clouded by their hot breath – and meet his prince’s eyes. Hooded, burning, a silent plea resonating through McCree’s flesh._

_He sucked deeper, welcoming the abrupt gesture pushing him down, the quick, desperate thrusts._

_“P-Please…”_

_A whimper, barely audible over the wet sounds shaking the air. McCree stopped – but not really: he stuck out his tongue and ran its flat up to the head, drawing small circles under the crown._

_“What now, darlin’?”_

_“I… want to…”_

_McCree chuckled and let one arm reach down under the seat. He found a shoe, an empty coffee mug, a crumpled cigarettes pack and finally the lube. He popped it open with his thumb, never taking his attention from the leaking cock in his mouth. His vampire was panting heavily already, nails scratching McCree’s back as he arched against him, but when McCree smeared a thick layer of lube on his hand and ran his fingers down the cleft of his ass the other man caught his breath._

_As one of his fingers worked its way around the other’s hole, rubbing in slow circles, McCree trailed along the heated shaft with the tip of his tongue. The tip of his index pressed gently, yet firmly, until the ring of muscles gave in and his partner – his_ lover _, now – hissed a muffled gasp. McCree raised his head and tried to make out his features in the dim light. He soon realized it was not pain what twisted those bruised, wet lips, and as he gave a tentative thrust with his hand he felt the slick walls around his finger clench._

Good _._

_He grabbed one thick thigh and spread it open, making more room for his head and resisting the urge to suck him to completion – because, as his whole body screamed for release, his own cock arching up over his unbuttoned jeans and the waistband of his underwear, the bottom of his soul demanded him to reduce that elegant man to a begging mess and taste him._

_McCree let his tongue trace the velvety skin down to the base, panting through the nest of black hairs at its base and further down. He pressed a second finger over the sensitive hole and when his mouth joined his hand – deep flicks of his tongue, breath becoming erratic as frenzy enraptured him too – the other man squirmed and let out a ragged howl._

_“J-Jesse… please, please…”_

_He mouthed and licked and slid his tongue as deep as he could, lazy movements that drew a whole symphony of needy little gasps. He had to stop and breathe, but it took him all of his determination to do so._

_He stood up, his fingers still buried deep and curling slowly. Another muffled, keening sound; McCree smirked despite the blinding heat coiling at the pit of his groin._

_“You taste so fuckin’ good, my prince, but”, he crawled upon him, suppressing a wail when their cocks brushed together. “But I need you to tell me what you want. I want to hear it in that sweet voice of yours”._

_“Inside me. I want you inside me”, and McCree snarled at the pleading tone, welcoming another kiss, his tongue getting sucked hungrily._

_Enough talking – damn, he loved that desperate, rich voice, but right now he needed to hear it form more moans and incoherent begging. He landed between spread thighs and rocked his hips, his movement met with equal passion. His jeans and underwear rolled down to his knees as he explored under the seats; he dropped the condom twice after finding it, grunting in annoyance until he managed to rip the wrap open._

_“I got this”, he mumbled, but the other man only bucked up his hips, fingers running down the expanse of McCree’s chest. The subtle burning of the scratches blossoming on his skin made him shiver while rolling up the condom._

_“Shit, babe, I wish I could give you more than a quickie in the back of my car”, he confessed, spilling more lube on his hand and cock. The quick contact of his palm as he slicked himself sent a shot of blinding pleasure through his body._

_“It’s alright”. A hot sigh against his ear, soft lips tracing a line of kisses down the side of his neck. “I just – I want you. Now”._

_“Same”, and he wished he could have said something more important or just dirtier or anything, but as he aligned himself down his brain cells stopped cooperating. He found the entrance and pushed gently, squeezing his eyes when he slipped in and forcing himself not to get lost in the heat and pressure._

_Pure beastly instinct screamed him to thrust harder and deeper, and yet McCree waited – inch after inch, an excruciatingly slow movement until he buried himself to the base. Only then – when a heavy panting filled his head, when greedy hands grabbed his back and urged him in – he dared to open his eyes._

_He didn’t know his name, but he looked like a prince indeed, even with his hair loose on his shoulders and his beautiful eyes closed in a perfect expression of lust._

_His hand moved on its own – a light caress from his temple down his jaw, and the other man looked at him._

_For a second – or the whole night, or eternity – they stared at each other, breathing quickly and skin on fire, and then McCree started to move. Lazily at first, adjusting himself and drowning in the crescent heat and friction around him; his partner threw his head back, exposing a long neck McCree craved to bite and mark as his own, and moaned loud when the deep thrusts reached the sensitive spot inside him._

_“M-More…” he groaned, and McCree leaned forward to devour his mouth – again and again, his hips snapping faster. Clawing the other man’s sides he licked his lips and drank in the hot breath – tasting like wine and smoke, an intoxicating mixture. Teeth grazed the man’s jaw and down this neck, closing hard on the tattooed shoulder and sinking in. McCree sucked the pale skin and his brain short-circuited at the sound – slap of flesh against flesh, groans and gasps._

_“Look at you, sugar – yer the most perfect thing ever, so pretty and eager – how… how lucky I am to have run into you”, he rasped, and the other man held him close, raising his legs and hooking them around McCree’s waist._

_There it was – the right position. McCree buried himself in brutal thrusts. He perched himself to the blurred window, leaving a wet handprint on the glass, and dipped his head._

_In the near darkness he could see little, but that dishevelled look, all flushed cheeks and shiny, wet lips around gritted teeth, was too precious for words._

_“F-Fuck, yer good…” he growled. He did his best to set a steady pace, but with every thrust, with every begging sound from these gorgeous lips the tension in his body built up. He clenched his jaws and anchored himself to his concentration as the walls around his cock tightened._

_“Don’t-don’t stop… whatever happens don’t stop now”. A plea? More a command, and McCree was happy to obey.  
“Not a chance, darlin’”, he whispered._

_His legs trembled from the precarious position but it was okay – it helped distracting him from the pleasure quickly washing over his nerves, setting them on fire._

_When his companion arched under him, his face twisting in a blend of arousal and mischief, not even the tingling in his calves could stop McCree from getting overwhelmed by the pulsation through his whole body._

_“Like that, cowboy”, the man hissed, grabbing a handful of brown locks in his fist. “Make me remember it tomorrow…”_

_That was it for McCree. He shook and held his breath, fighting against the orgasm expanding through his body. He slid a hand between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around the slick cock bouncing against his abdomen. The grip on his hair faltered as the other man arched again, and when McCree ran his thumb on the slippery head a deep shiver crawled upon his skin._

_“Oh god yes…”_

_McCree moved his hand in swift strokes and bent forward, dipping his tongue in the crook of the other man’s neck and licking the heated skin._

_“Come on, babe. Let it go”, he purred as his bones vibrated in the prelude of his climax. His voice died in a groan when his partner shook in his arms and bucked against him, the ring of muscles clenching suddenly and a confused flow of groans and curses resonating in the car. McCree stroke him to the end of his orgasm, vision blurring as his hand collected the hot, sticky mess._

_“Like that”, he breathed. “So good, honey – I…”_

_Black hair in a tangle around that beautiful face, wet lips – McCree took it all in and pounded his hips in a growing and erratic pace. It started out as a violent tension in his groin and got hold of his whole body, and the last contractions around his cock tipped him over the edge. He dug his fingers in the sweaty skin of the thigh still wrapped around his sides and let out a deep, loud grunt. Red – red and black behind his closed eyelids, blood pounding in his head and his world splintered in shards of fire and light. The violence of his orgasm turned off his brain for a long moment and reality faded to black. He got back to himself to find he’d slumped on the panting naked body under him._

_With a last shiver McCree braced himself to his elbow and gave in to instinct some more._

_That man was so glorious – even with the red line of makeup on the side of his mouth all smudged down his chin – he couldn’t suppress an ecstatic sigh. He splayed a hand over the pale chest and the drumming of the man’s heartbeat quivered against his palm; a small movement of his head, enough to almost brush their lips together but not really, and he stood still with a soft smile across his face._

_“Thank you”, he whispered, at loss for better words. He didn’t expect anything, surely not to see an identical smile light up his prince’s face and much less the sweet kiss that closed his mouth._

_“What for?”_

_“Well, it was… you’re really amazing and… I mean…” He shrugged and pulled out, sitting back on his heels and hunching over to adjust his bulk in the small space. His head spun a bit from the aftermath of pleasure and he rummaged under the seats until he found an half empty box of tissues. He wiped his hand clean and shook his head. The not-a-stranger-anymore in front of him sat up and pulled his pants up; no way his shirt could look less crumpled, or to hide the purple mark on his collarbone._

_McCree tied the condom and threw it and the tissue out of the car; the whiff of cold air raised goosebumps on his arms, so he quickly closed the door._

_He was starting to feel stupid, but he was more than willing to make an ass of himself not to waste his chance with his companion._

_“Will ye tell me yer name now?”_

_Dark eyes glimmered in the shadows; maybe McCree was fooling himself, but there was the hint of a smile on those swollen lips._

_“You really care”._

_His breath was going back to a normal rhythm and McCree retrieved his shirt._

_“Just… don’t be a stranger”._

 

His phone buzzed in the back pocket of his jeans. McCree ignored it, too busy trying to control his breath and marching in heavy steps out of the lab. He felt the quizzical looks of his colleagues and stubbornly ignored them all.

_It’s not getting any easier, so do it already._

He stopped by the door, closed his eyes and straightened his back, and dragging in a deep lungful of air he stepped into the corridor.

He counted to three – and then to five, and eventually to ten and some more – before a tiny strangled noise, followed closely by the unequivocal sound of a smartphone dropped on the floor, made him squint.

Hanzo was looking at him as if he’d just seen a ghost – if supernatural apparitions were supposed to cause grown up men to go bright red in the face. Jaw dropped and hands still clawing the empty air around where his phone used to be, the man stared and even his ears blushed.

“Er – hi”, and McCree cursed in silence for the wicked idea of _waving_.

Silence. No answer, just that appalled look and the flush spreading down Hanzo’s neck. He slowly stood up and almost stepped on his phone – and McCree’s buzzed again, in vain – pointing a shaking finger at McCree.

“ _You_ ”.

“Well, yeah – as I said, hi. And… uh… welcome?”

“You’re not working here”, he deadpanned with more than a hint of panic in his voice. McCree couldn’t blame him.

“Looks like I do. And… you too, now?”

Hanzo turned around and ran his hand through his hair, dropping a muffled and very detailed-sounding flow of Japanese profanities under his breath.

“At least now I know your name”, tried to jest McCree, with very little success. He cleared his throat and prayed his heart was not going to explode any moment soon. And _definitely_ not from embarrassment alone.

“Indeed you do”. Hanzo picked his phone from the floor and looked back at McCree, wide eyed.

McCree rubbed the back of his neck and tried to avert his eyes, but damn, that guy had left a fiery handprint on his heart. Ready to sound as idiot as he could be he stepped forward.

“I… I have your papers. And the boss asked me to show you the place and stuff and…”

He huffed and slumped his shoulders. Dark eyes were still fixed upon him and McCree sighed. “Alright, my office’s over there, we could… do this thing. Without a bunch of post-docs and students sticking their noses in our business. The contract, I mean. I’m talkin’ about the contract”.

“I want to die”.

“Me too, but far from prying eyes, maybe?”

McCree crossed the corridor, certain his carotids couldn’t bear the pressure, and opened the door for Hanzo.

“Be my guest”, he muttered, and Hanzo kept his head low as he walked in front of him, back stiff and fists clenched. The purple mark of his bite was still visible on his neck.  
McCree carefully closed the door behind them, overly grateful that Fareeha was in the lab.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me”, moaned Hanzo, falling on the nearest chair.

“Same here, honey”, and at the affectionate nickname Hanzo’s face went purple. McCree got to his desk and threw the papers on the keyboard of his pc; a hysterical laughter bubbled in his throat and he sat down, leaning back against the chair. “I have no idea how to handle this”.

“Nor do I. I don’t know what impression I made but I swear I’m not one for one night stands before a job interview”.

“So that means I’m special?” McCree bit his tongue a second too late and facepalmed hard. “Sorry. Sorry, inappropriate, I know. Let’s keep it professional, shall we?”

Hanzo was bent forward, face hidden in his hands.

“We had sex less than twelve hours ago, it’s hard to keep it professional…”

“But we can start over. I’m Jesse”.

The other man shot him a cold stare and snarled.

“It’s not Halloween anymore, you can drop that cowboy nonsense and…”

“No, that’s me. Name’s Jesse McCree”, and he extended a hand over the desk. Hanzo flushed some more – seriously though, how redder could he get at this point? – and sat up.

“Oh. Really?”

“Really”. After a long stare Hanzo roused and took his hand in a firm grip. McCree smiled when the contact lasted a couple of seconds too much for being a mere formality.

“Hanzo. I… should’ve told you before, I suppose”. He retreated his hand and a stern grimace pressed his lips together. “I wanted to, actually, but you disappeared”.

“ _Me_? I spent two hours looking for you in that bloody pub but you were nowhere to be seen!”

“I told you I had an appointment this morning, what did you expect? I couldn’t stay all night and get drunk and…”

McCree moaned. His headache reminded him of his past mistakes.

“That’s what _I_ did”.

His phone buzzed insistently and McCree pulled it from his pocket and slammed it on the desk. Three messages from Sombra.

Not good.

“You _did_ talk to Genji though, didn’t you?”

“I… well… I’m not sure. I was there with a friend and she didn’t want to leave so soon, so I went to the bar and... and got wasted”.

Hanzo knitted his brow and bit his lip, pinching the piercing between his thumb and index finger.

“What a mess”.

At this McCree took his head in his hands and groaned again.

“I wanted to find you but I had no idea where you were, I kinda remember I asked Genji and he said you were goin’ home and… you know, I just supposed you didn’t wanna have anything to do with me”. He tapped his fingers on the armrest and tried a very unconvincing smile. “So I drank a bit too much”.

“You… what?”

Hanzo pushed a loose strand of hair behind his ear. His were growing large again, but some of the shock on his face was fading away.

“You were gone and I was angry and I’m not good at being a reasonable adult in such situations”.

_That_ he remembered all too well. They got off his car and back inside, but after a while Hanzo’d excused himself – still looking quite ravished, all shining eyes and hair loose on his shoulders – and just disappeared in the crowd. McCree’d felt his heart drop to his heels when he couldn’t find the black tuxedo among the other customers and the bubble of silly enthusiasm he’d felt had popped. He’d refused to give Sombra any detail and just ignored his common sense, opting for a long series of drinks under the perplexed look of Genji.

“But I wanted to have something to do with you! I even told Genji to ask you for your number,” blurted out Hanzo, incredulous. McCree winced and looked up, eyebrows jumping up his forehead.

“… you did? Genji said something but I was – well, beyond good and evil”.

Hanzo slapped a hand on his own mouth and quickly looked away. Something light and soft took flight in McCree’s chest and his smile grew wider.

“I… just… I didn’t want to sound rude”.

“And we did have a good time, after all”.

“Definitely. I mean – yes, it was a pleasant night”. Hanzo’s confusion only made him even more adorable and McCree just wanted to take his hand over the desk. “I thought Genji would tell you something, he knew I wanted to be home early and…”

“Hanzo, ‘s alright. I’m not tryina make you nervous, I swear, but I’m glad you don’t think I’m some kind of creep or whatever”.

“Of course you’re not”, he snorted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the wall. After a while he peeked back at McCree and, with a sigh, his broad shoulders relaxed. “Can we proceed with the paperwork? I think we both need some time to recollect ourselves”.

Was happiness that warm feeling McCree cradled in his heart? Sure, they were nothing but to soon-to-be coworkers that had some great sexy time, but there were worse basis to build relationships on.

“Sure thing, darlin’. Here – I’m not the best at bureaucracy but yer smarter than me, so you’ll do just fine”, and he passed him the file. “Should’ve guessed yer some kind of geek, with all the talk of numbers and geometry…”

“McCree. Please”, but for all his snarky tone Hanzo’s eyes gleamed with amusement. He quickly grabbed the papers and scanned them attentively.

This gave McCree some time to check on his phone.

Three text, and he’d already seen the name of the sender. When he opened the first one he had to bit the inside of his cheek to stifle a curse.

_“You’re not fooling anyone, hermanito. I saw your desperate puppy eyes and you spent the whole drive back home rambling about a beautiful vampire and how you were in love; and there were condoms all over the seat. Be glad I was there to take care of you.”_

He scrolled down with his ears on fire and got to the second text.

_“Luckily for everyone involved, I can handle your love life better than you. It just took me one single call to solve all of your problems. No need to thank me, you’ll repay me one way or another”._

“Oh no”, he breathed out; Hanzo was still busy with his documents but as McCree shot him a quick look he found him staring back briefly and immediately going back to reading.

_“Hanzo Shimada, one year older than you, hopelessly single – Genji mentioned something about him being a pain in the ass, so I suggest lots of lube – and a genius. Birthday is on July, 16 th, lactose intolerant, likes body modifications, industrial music, chess; blood type B-, and here’s his number”. _

McCree tapped the screen before memorizing the long series of numbers.

Sombra was a little monster and he didn’t know whether to be more frustrated or grateful to her. Glancing up at the pretty sight in front of him, though, he was more inclined to the latter.

“That’s it, then. I think I should sign this”. Hanzo’s voice startled him and McCree lost focus.

“What… what’s your blood type?” he gasped, and Hanzo cocked an eyebrow.

“My what?”

“Sorry. Nevermind, don’t know what I was thinkin’ ‘bout, it’s just…”

“B-, but why?”

_She’s scaringly accurate._

“Nothing, I was…”

A heavy sigh, and McCree fell back in his chair, hands in his hair again.

“So here we are. ‘m sorry if anything I did made you uncomfortable, Hanzo. I swear I didn’t mean it”.

At this Hanzo smiled – a sweet, almost shy gesture that melted what was left of McCree’s doubts.

“I never thought that, Jesse. I was just surprised to see you here. And I don’t think it’s the bad kind of surprise”.

McCree fell silent – the whole office, the whole world fell silent. Was it really happening? To _him_?

He grinned and something in the depths of his body relaxed. Hanzo leaned on the desk and took a pen, a casual gesture that ended with a soft brush of their fingers; none of them pulled back.

The signature at the bottom of the page was an elegant, intricate scribble.

“Done”, said Hanzo, still quite flushed, putting pen and paper down.

“Wanna go out with me?”

The filter between McCree’s brains and his mouth failed him again, and it was too late to take the words back. Hanzo blinked several times.

“I mean – hang out. Not a date, unless you want it to be a date, which would be perfectly fine for me, but I won’t push my luck that far. Yer new in town and alright, you have your brother to show you around but if you – if you needed another guide I would gladly… oh, and I still have your ribbon in my car, so if you need it just ask. Y’know”, and he made the goofiest waving gesture ever.

Why couldn’t the floor just split open and swallow him down?

But Hanzo didn’t kill him on the spot or run away or anything – he just tilted his head and bit his lip.

“Why not? If we’re to work together it won’t hurt getting to know each other better”.

“So is that a yes?” He sounded shocked and tried really hard not to laugh or cheer out loud.

“I think it is”.

“Oh. Great! Welcome on board! Oh, here, take this”, and he ripped a piece of paper, quickly scribbling his number on it. “I’m easy to find but – that’s my phone number. In case you’d need it”.

Hanzo took it, smiling even more, and stood up.

“Thank you, Jesse. I think I should go take this”, and he shook the documents, “to the administrative office, then I’ll settle down”.

“The cafeteria is not bad, so if you want to join me for lunch…”

“I’d like that”.

McCree stood and walked around the desk, resisting the urge to indulge in more displays of affection. Hanzo surprised him by gently brushing his hand with the tip of his fingers, an almost casual gesture that had McCree’s inner voice cry out in delight.

“See you later then, my prince”, he said instead, low and sweet. He moved to the door – the alternative being stealing a kiss right there, risking Fareeha or anyone to catch them – and opened it.

The whole research team, huddled on the threshold, scattered around in a pathetic show of ‘we were just walking by and totally not eavesdropping’.

Jack Morrison quickly disappeared in the lab, followed closely by Fareeha; Hana bit her hand and ran to the bathroom, where everyone heard her laugh loud. Lúcio just sunk his hands in the pockets of his labcoat and slowly walked away, whistling softly. Hanzo closed his eyes and his lips moved in what looked like an exasperate retort and McCree stiffened.

“Yep. Fine. See ya, Shimada”.

“Thank you, dr. McCree”, and off he went, slightly faster than what could have looked normal.

McCree rocked on his feet and, as soon as he was sure no one was looking, screaming on the inside for the unbelievable series of events that led him to meet Hanzo Shimada.

“Hey, Jesse!”

Lúcio’s voice startled him; McCree turned sharply to see a grinning dark face peeking from the lab.

“If you need any relationship advice you can always ask me”, he said, winking and snapping his fingers at him.

“You little…” he laughed, but he really didn’t mind.

After all he was the one with a date.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This thing has been sitting in my pc for weeks. At first I wanted to wait until McHanzo Week to publish it, but I'm bad at waiting, so here it is: your monday's dumb AU!  
> I worked in a lab for years during my PhD and you really meet a bunch of weird people in such places. Sadly for me, no one was ever as hot as the ones in this AU. 
> 
> So well, hope you enjoyed this silly thing and will stick around for all the more McHanzo to come :3


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